This story started here.
"There are two rehearsal rooms," Pete explained as we walked down the hall to the murder room.
"First off, what's behind there?" I said, pointing at a big double door with a hasp and a large padlock.
Pete looked at Mac, who said, "That's where the Blaydz – the other band – that's where they store their equipment, the stuff they don't share."
I nodded as we stepped into the rear practice room. It was a bit larger than the front room, and the equipment looked in somewhat better repair (as far as I could tell with my very limited knowledge). A logo of the name "The Blaydz," with a stylized sword behind the band's name, was stenciled on every piece of equipment.
Barney's body was lying between his drums and the window, which was open about six inches. He was stocky, with short black hair and a big beard.
"Has he been moved?" I asked.
"We rolled him over, to see if he was still alive," Pete said, "but nobody has touched him since. There was no pulse." Mac's expression indicated that even the thought of touching a corpse made him queasy.
I squatted and gave him a quick examination. There was one bullet wound that I could spot. He'd been shot from the back, probably right into his heart. The bullet had not come out.
I had three thoughts.
- starling was on internationally famous homicidal lunatic. Was it really likely that Barney had turned his back on her the minute after she'd unexpectedly entered the room where he was practicing?
- It would be pretty easy to do an autopsy to find out if the bullet matched either of starling's guns. It was not going to be so easy to defuse the situation in the other room so that we could prevent more deaths while waiting for the autopsy results.
- Both of starling's guns, the revolver and the automatic, were pretty big guns. I was no expert on firearms, but I was surprised that the bullet hadn't gone through him. Also, the bullet hole in his back looked smaller than I would have expected. But, of course, she might be carrying other guns.